Snippet #2653252

Ya'weh awoke with a start. She was sweating, startled and short of breath.
What in damnation could that dream mean?
She sat up and noticed Tumhathil watching her, sitting on the floor cross-legged, with his head cocked to the left. He cracked as close to a smile as he would then sat up straight. She smiled back, took a deep breath and joined him on the floor. She grabbed his forearms and they sat together meditating. Well, Tum would meditate, Ya'weh was praying. She prayed blessings over all those she fought, those she trained, those employed by the arena. While she wasn't one-hundred percent in her non-grudge holding, she sure did try. Tum and her had bonded rather quickly, at least compared to how quickly Tum ever bonded to anyone. He was impressed by her fighting skills and leadership, while she was impressed by his ability to live each day for the day he has and his gentleness. She wouldn't classify them as physically intimate, but mentally and emotionally, especially for Tum, they were connected. She would hum while they meditated, Tum swaying very slightly to the rhythm.
Ya'weh began meditating after her prayers and started to feel physical, spiritual and emotional discomfort. Something about that dream had irked her. Reflecting upon it made her sick spiritually. She felt physically drained from her destruction of the training dummies, which she now had to go clean up. As a "leader" in the fighting world, she was the first to clean any mess made. She liked to lead by showing, not by yelling. Except the first day with new trainees. She wanted respect, so she worked for it. Her emotional discomfort was startling to her though. Her humming stopped. She opened her eyes to see Tum with one eye cracked and an eyebrow up.
"Lets continue later." He said curiously. He got up, helped Ya'weh up and left her chambers slowly.
"What is going on with me?" she whispered. "I have not been this off since I was poisoned by my opponent." She said a quick prayer of healing and turned on her ability to ease her fatigue. It came at the price of a lowered sense of smell, but she didn't mind that one bit.
As her body healed itself she entered the training grounds. It appeared there had been a skirmish of some sort. One man was still lying on the ground in pain while his friends had gotten up to tend to him and each other.
"Kilyn, what happened?" She asked with a slight irritation to her voice. While injuries were prevalent in her training area, this seemed off and given her sense of emotional turmoil she wanted answers.
"A new recruit came and he had coin on him. He wanted to see the blacksmith I believe."
She sighed, "What has my training taught you if all of you were beaten by one new fighter?" She asked with an insulting tone. "Get up and be gladiators, stop moping around."
Ya'weh jaunted to the blacksmith to see what he knew. She usually challenged herself to avoid his gravel trap but with all that had happened in the last thirty minutes, she had not time to spare...